


His sweet lies

by Sayu_Koishimoto



Category: Nana
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayu_Koishimoto/pseuds/Sayu_Koishimoto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How I loved those sweet lies of him".</p>
            </blockquote>





	His sweet lies

His words were always lies.

His love was also a damn lie.

When he told me we'd go back to Soukogai when we grow older, he was lying.

He was always lying to me, about I marrying him, about we having children, living together, loving each other, it was all lies.

But, the worst thing of all this weren't his lies.

The worst was that his sweet lies made my heart beat faster, made me love him even more. Just because I wanted to believe that his lies were truths.

But now, without his sweet lie, I can't move one, I can't keep living.

Because, even hoping he'd lie to me once more, I know he can't.

He'll never tell me lies like that he loved me, that he'll be home tomorrow, that he wanted a life with me, that he missed me.

He can't tell me any of those.

He can't say anything.

And the only thing I can do is stare dumbly at his perfect hands. Hands that he protected, another one of this damn lies.

But this isn't a lie, after all.

He'll never come home again. He'll never coax and pamper me again. He'll never hold me in his warm arms and tell me he missed me a lot.

Because it isn't just a damn lie that he is there, in that coffin, lying motionless.

It's not a lie that he'll never play or write musics to me anymore.

And now, I ask myself if his lies were really lies or if he were telling me the truth.

I can't be sure of anything, because I can't ask anyone, I can't ask him.

The three things I was sure were:

One, he protected his hands with his life. He protected those hands that wrote songs that weren't made for me. Those hands which played the guitar for another girl.

Two, he still had the padlock I gave to him around his neck.

And three, how I loved those sweet lies of him.

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_**The End**  
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